


What is Fuhking? (And You Are Mine)

by dance_tilyouredead



Series: Clexa Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Babbling Lexa, Confident Clarke, F/F, Fluff, I Blame Tumblr, I did that brackets title thing, Tumblr Prompt, Unrealistic best case scenario fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dance_tilyouredead/pseuds/dance_tilyouredead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt:<br/>"It's Late, Clarke has arrived in Polis to find Lexa only to be told her guards have been ordered not to let Clarke in, Clarke begins assuming things like how Lexa was lying the whole time until she manages to break into Lexa's quarters to find her crying alone."</p><p>This got a bit out of hand.</p><p> " ‘Lexa, you’re a goddess,’ she concludes. Clarke snaps her mouth shut but doesn’t look away. Lexa’s eyes are red, her cheeks are damp, Clarke wipes some more snot from under her nose, and still Lexa is breathtaking. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	What is Fuhking? (And You Are Mine)

The guard gives zero fucks about the gun pointed under his chin and Clarke has to show her bluff for what it is, storming off from the front steps of Lexa's mansion. Goddamn Polis guards don't know who she is. The soldiers in every village from the Ark to here have been terrified of her and Clarke has had no qualms about playing that to her advantage. But now she is stuck. She’s here for a reason and she won’t be turned away. Lexa will explain what the hell she was thinking.

Clarke had hoped Lexa would try to defend herself, that she would give Clarke a reason to forgive her. But Lexa won't even see her, has expressly refused entry. Well Clarke doesn't need her permission.

’Lexa!’ She calls out to the second storey windows. Who knew grounders even had buildings this big, Clarke certainly didn’t. ’Lexa!’ She shouts again. She’s thinking of shouting again but a small group of children are looking and pointing at her and she realises she’s making a spectacle of herself. She also looks nothing like Brando. ’Fuck it,’ she mumbles – she’ll find a way in.

Lexa owes her this. She wandered in the wilderness for three goddamn weeks. She moved right through the crying and onto the blaming. She will bear her people’s pain but Lexa can fucking well bear it with her. She starts making a lap of the building looking for an entry point.

The guards had told Clarke that The Commander would not see her. She can only conclude that Lexa has stopped caring. Or had never cared in the first place. For the first time, she realises that maybe she’d been a fool. Played by calm eyes and perfect lips. She had let herself care for the enemy despite everything that told her Lexa was too good to be true. That girls like Lexa, and girls like herself don’t just fall in love and live happily ever after. Lexa used her to form a temporary alliance, easily broken at the first better offer.

Clarke finds a back door which is locked but unguarded. The windows either side can give her the right leverage to reach an open window above. She can parkour this shit and break in, even if she did fail tree climbing 101.

Somehow, she finds herself up on the windowsill legs flailing desperately with not enough arm strength to do anything graceful. She gives up on grace, tilts forward and lands in a heap on the floor of a long hallway. She freezes but there’s no sign of alarm, only silence. She stands then creeps down the hallway. Still nothing. She pauses to listen and then there’s something – a soft sighing.

Clarke follows the sound to a wide, sun filled bedroom with a bed of quilts, furs and pillows. The walls are covered in art and frames, and on every surface is greenery, vines and flowers sprouting from innumerable vessels. It’s a beautiful space, filled with life and light.

And in the middle of it all is Lexa. Seated on a great quilted cushion, she's wearing a long flowing dress with bared shoulders and back. A circlet of gold threaded in her intricately braided flow of hair trails down her back and over the dark lines of a tattoo. She looks like a princess, and she’s crying. Great heaving sobs make her body shake, hard enough to see the muscles in her back ripple and tense.

Clarke’s anger disappears along with the fit of spite which brought her here. Because Lexa is hurting. ’Lexa,’ she says, her voice soft.

The sobs immediately cease and Clarke knows she has snuck up on her. She never would have thought that was possible. Clarke enters the room and walks over to kneel down in front of her. Lexa looks up at her sniffing and wiping her tears.

Clarke tries again. ’Lexa? Can I– oomph.’

Lexa leaps forward tackling Clarke sideways half onto the floor before pulling Clarke into her chest. ’Alive. I heard rumours but couldn’t believe—’ she loses some coherence then as she starts crying again and mumbling in what Clarke thinks is Trigedasleng.

All Clarke can think to do when she manages to pull her head out of Lexa’s breast is to wipe away Lexa’s tears, stroke her hair and offer her sleeve for Lexa to snot on. Lexa starts to recover and goes back to English. ’How did you get—’ she stops part way and shakes her head. ’No. I already know. It's because you are you. Beautiful, wonderful you.’

Clarke barely has a moment to register the word _beautiful_  before Lexa is crashing soft lips into hers. Clarke keeps herself upright just barely and starts kissing back. All the awful that happened since the flare went up disappears. They aren’t leaders, commanders or any kind of genocidal maniacs. They are just Clarke and Lexa and they care for one another and Love isn’t weakness, it’s just love.

Clarke freezes as the L word drifts through her mind without permission.

Lexa must feel Clarke’s reaction. She leans back but doesn’t look away. ‘I’m glad that you’re here.’

Clarke breathes out a laugh. ‘Then why wouldn’t you see me?’

Lexa frowns. ‘I didn’t want you to see me like this.’ She gestures to herself.

Clarke tries to see something wrong with the way Lexa looks. ‘Lexa, you’re a goddess,’ she concludes. Clarke snaps her mouth shut but doesn’t look away. Lexa’s eyes are red, her cheeks are damp, Clarke wipes some more snot from under her nose, and still Lexa is breathtaking. Wartime agreed with Lexa, but so does peace. Peace agrees with her very much and so does the blush that marks her cheeks as she pulls in a sharp breath at Clarke’s unplanned praise.

Clarke kisses her again. Because she can. ‘I came here to demand your apology.’ Lexa frowns but Clarke rushes to continue. ‘I don’t want it. You did what you had to do. Just as I did.’

Lexa looks down. ‘I heard about the Mountain, what happened after we – after I left.’ Her chin quivers again and fresh tears well in her eyes.

‘Hey, no don’t.’ Clarke kisses her again in hopes of holding off the tears. ‘It’s okay.’

Lexa jerks her head in a negative. ‘It’s not. I’m not meant to care this much, Clarke.’

Clarke feels the syllables of her name on Lexa’s tongue in a way much more animal than the situation permits. She swallows. ‘If we aren’t meant to care this much then the world should stop pushing so fucking hard to have us together.’

‘ _Fuhking_?’ Lexa asks.

Clarke laughs again, feeling light for the first time in weeks – months. ‘I’ll explain that one another time. The point is, think of all the things that had to go right for us to end up meeting, for us both to survive long enough to get here.’

Lexa looks thoughtful, a crease between her brows. ’My spirit chose this time and place, this body in the best interests of my people,’ she says finally.

Clarke thinks the corniest line she has ever considered in her life. It’s too much to say but she goes ahead and says it anyway. ‘Maybe my spirit was meant to come and find yours.’

Lexa’s eyes go soft then, softer than Clarke’s ever seen. ‘Well then,’ she says. ‘I guess I need your spirit to stay where it is.’ They both laugh and Lexa moves to stand. She holds out a hand to bring Clarke along with her. ‘Are you hungry?’ she asks.

‘Starving,’ Clarke admits freely. She hasn’t eaten since she left the last village a day ago.

Lexa starts flowing toward the door. There’s no other way to describe how she walks in that dress. Clarke feels like an unbathed lemur in comparison. But Lexa called her beautiful so she won’t worry on it now. She catches up to Lexa who loops their arms together.

Lexa sighs, ‘Then we will find some food for us both. And you can explain over our meal what this _fuhking_  is.’

Clarke laughs all the way to the kitchen and doesn’t stop until Lexa twists her arm and she’s forced to fight back. They wrestle and laugh until Clarke has Lexa pinned to the wall with tickling fingers and Lexa cries out for mercy. At least Clarke figures it’s the Trigeda equivalent.

Clarke kisses her again. She’s breathless as Lexa pulls them closer together. ‘I can give you a full demonstration of fucking if that will make you happy.’

‘Clarke.’ Lexa sighs, her pupils blown out to black. 'It is you that makes me happy.’

Clarke can’t believe the feelings inside her. ‘You are,’ she pauses searching for the words, then finds them. ‘You are Ai Kwlenes.’

Lexa nudges Clarke’s nose with her own. ‘And you are mine.’ 


End file.
